


No air

by Miss_Hiraya



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Future Fic, Lovers' Quarrel, M/M, serial killer!OC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-10-04
Packaged: 2018-02-19 20:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2401415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Hiraya/pseuds/Miss_Hiraya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They hardly argue over anything. Everyone knows Makoto is an angel who rarely raises his voice at anyone or bear grudges, while Sousuke is far too cool with almost everything involving his green-eyed angel. But it's when they fight that they realize how muffled and silent it is in their apartment, how the shadows seemed to stretch baring every bit of their insecurities and fears, how the cold seemed to linger and slowly creep into their skin to swallow them whole, and how it's harder to breathe in a cramped space with no air.</p><p>The feeling is almost like drowning. </p><p>-or, in which the couple enter into a simple misunderstanding neither of them were accustomed to. And there's a storm, and a serial killer on the loose, too. What can get worse?</p>
            </blockquote>





	No air

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno what to do with my overflowing Soumako feels. Also, unbeta'ed.

The first time they really argued about something- and not about who's cooking dinner or how they divide the chores because either one is worried about the other, or one just wants to spoil the other rotten- is because of work.

It was a typical thing for two grown-up men with jobs heavy on their shoulders to get carried away sometimes. Makoto's nerves are constantly alert because a fire can start one time and burn away lives into ashes the next. Sousuke's line of work can be either frustrating, dragging, or dangerous, or just the three of them at the same time. At the end of the day, they're both worn out and sometimes it feels like they're already on the edge of falling into a darker space.

But they try to remember; they try to understand, and they try to compromise with each other by comforting cuddles and gentle kisses, or lazy caresses and massages. If they're really get into it, they can just melt the stress with a passionate night in bed. 

It always worked. Sousuke wondered why it didn't now. He was on the verge of blowing up a fuse and while he's thankful he didn't do that at the office, he really didn't want to bring his steam to their normally cozy home, too. But he really couldn't remember why he let himself blow up like that. In front of Makoto, even when he knew and saw that Makoto's words never meant to be insensitive. _It's going to be okay, Sou. You'll eventually find a way. Please don't let it get to you too much._

"Of course it gets to me. Of course it's not going to be okay unless we find a way to get that bloody bastard on our hands!" _We've already lost seven! No, eight if you count the unborn child of the last female victim!_ Sousuke's voice was crisp, suddenly sharp and frustrated.

"Sousuke, calm down.." Makoto's smile faded, his expression stifling a flinch, eyes widened. 

"Well, it may not be the same thing, but I know what it feels to lose someone in front of you." He restrained his voice, his bitter past and fears bubbling like acid in the pit of his gut. Death was a sensitive topic to him. The mere thought of it brought Makoto's worse memories of the ocean, the storm, the kind fisherman, the goldfishes, and Haru not opening his eyes to relish the feeling of water around him. But he couldn't just show weakness like that especially if Sousuke was in the edge of breaking too. 

But his voice barely managed to hide the rising tension. 

"I can't just--They blame the fire, Makoto. They don't blame the firemen. But when someone is killed, and a serial killer is on the loose for weeks, they blame the police and their incompetence. They blame us like we're not affected by the repeating glassy stares of dead corpses delivered to our doorsteps." Sousuke roughly clenched his fists, feelings going spiral. 

Makoto could hear guilt and remorse and yet, his own feelings had been spurred, too. He knew they were both on the edge that day, so why didn't he stop? Why didn't he just let it slide?

_Because I know. I know that no matter how much the relatives try to hide it. They'd blame us. They'd blame us for not being fast enough. For not getting there before they suffocate and die, for letting them die in our own hands. But it's nothing compared to the eyes that frantically searched for us, begged for us, and stare at us until the color in their eyes fades as they scream and burn into pieces and ashes, or reach their final breath when they almost thought they could make it._

The scene was practically fresh to him, the rough feeling of fingers touching for a painful moment and slipping lingered in Makoto's now clenched fists. "Sou, you know it's not the point. We both know--"

"No, it's always easy for you to to say that, Makoto but no. The world isn't made up of sunshines and rainbow so maybe you should grow up too!-"

"Don't tell me that as if I'm not affected, okay.." Makoto managed to say in the most earnest voice he could muster. He knew Sousuke was just pushed to his limits, of course he'd understand that his words weren't meant to be scathing. 

"You wouldn't. You wouldn't understand so please just shut up!" 

_Slap_. Maybe it's the coffee. Maybe it's the weather; maybe it's the stress, or the way his shoulder is acting up. Maybe it's him who is the problem. Whatever it was, Sousuke knew it was anything _but_ Makoto's fault. He was only trying to reach out to him; was only trying to understand and trying to calm him down like he always did. 

Sousuke wondered why it didn't work now. Then again, he had slammed the door shut, leaving the other as he let his burning cheek be numbed by the cold weather, and let his feet drag him to a place where he could breathe before he could think a proper answer. 

Later when he'd finally calm himself down after catching a drink or two or something that'd take his mind from the case, and from thinking how'd he apologize to Makoto for being a bastard, he'd go home. Hopefully, Makoto wouldn't be so upset. Hopefully, when he comes back he'd finally find the air in their house and breathe. At the moment, he just couldn't stand anything at all- the lights in the city were blinding, the noise was reminding him of how he'd raised his voice against the last person he'd get angry to. Sousuke wanted to call Rin, but he knew his best friend was dealing with same thing he's going through, but at least he had Nanase. He himself had Makoto, but he was just stupid and blindingly frustrated that he ended up pushing him away and Makoto had to slap him for it. 

Before he knew it, he was drowning. The storm outside the bar he was currently in was not the one causing it.

* * *

_It's already 10. The storm is not slowing down, I wonder if Sou is okay._ Makoto had seen the door slam to his face, and for the first time in years he felt truly angry. 

He was angry at Sousuke for getting angry at him, at Sousuke being insensitive, at the serial killer for causing the problem in the first place , and at the storm for not helping his worries any better. 

Most of all, to himself for getting carried away and for hurting the last person he wanted to hurt. 

It was wrong to get angry for those reasons, he told himself. It was wrong to blame Sousuke or himself, and it was stupid to blame the weather. And no matter how evil the serial killer could be, it wasn't fair to blame him/her for a thing that he wasn't even directly involved. The last part may be unconvincing, but Makoto resolved that him getting angry was not the best action at the moment. 

So, he cried at his own helplessness, at his own weaknesses, and at his indecision of being selfish or not. Most of all, he cried because suddenly the room in their house had become unpleasant and thickly gloomy. The muffled silence was killing his nerves, and the shadows were stretching up to him with claws baring all his insecurities and fears. The air was nowhere found for him to breathe. 

Makoto found himself hugging his knees to his chest, sitting in a corner of their kitchen feeling bare and scared. Their home was supposed to be the place he sought comfort, why did it turned out to be haunting and unwelcoming now? 

Makoto was drowning. And he hoped the storm would just stop, and Sousuke would come back.

* * *

A soft knock jolted Makoto out of a sleep he that didn't know came. He felt tired and sore, his muscles aching at the uncomfortable position he was in, eyes puffed red while tear cracks evident on his cheeks. But hearing the knock, he couldn't help but be relieved.

Excited, Makoto almost stumbled as he ran to the door. Sousuke was back, and he had nothing else on his mind but how he had many things to say and being sorry was one of them. He didn't know how and what to say, all he really wanted was to talk to him so it wouldn't feel so foreign and empty inside their shared house anymore. His hands were on the doorknob when another knock was on the door. _Knock knock knock_ slow and as if taking time to echo. Makoto felt a sudden chill, and the world shifted as the realization hit him.

Sousuke always had a spare key with him. In his jacket, the one he wore when he stormed out of their house. There was no reason he'd knock when he could've just unlock the door, right?

_ But Haru.. Haru would always call or text, he'd knock on the door and say something so Haru-like, "Makoto, it's me." and that was that. Rin, he would always knock randomly and fast, impatient, but he'd always call either names with a pleasant tone. Nagisa was always in high-spirits, banging the door and call "Mako-chan!" or "Sou-chan!" and Rei would say something to scold his boyfriend for it. _

The green-eyed man frowned in thought, _but then who else would visit them in such an hour, and with a storm outside too?!_ He shook his head and almost had to ask out loud who was there on the other side, when his eyes caught a piece of paper settling on the ground innocently. Curious, he picked it up.

** I know you're in there. Let me accompany you while your lover is out there hating you.  **

His worst suspicions had been confirmed. _H-he knew what happened earlier. He knows Sousuke, he knows where he is! Bu- but how---_

Makoto was feeling the fear slowly creeping up to him as darker thoughts begin to cloud his already panicking state of mind. He didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say but he was biting his lip because he should call the police but it's almost as if he's being nailed to the spot, frozen and stiff. 

He didn't know when another piece of paper slid from the crack of their door, but he didn't know exactly what came to him to pick it up, too. And then he just had to take a peek. It was the same feeling in his gut whenever his friends invite him to watch a scary movie and he's debating on getting carried away by the pure curiosity.

He was met with bloodshot eyes, staring back at him and he was sure whoever it was, it was grinning with its teeth showing. Makoto saw his fears reflected in those crimson-lit eyes, he saw death flash right before him and it took a lightning strike for him to scramble back from the door as far as he could, legs shaking like his hands were. 

** You're not answering. I take that as an invitation. Don't worry, I only mean to harm you. Your boyfriend can wait, right?  **

_Sousuke! He's going to hurt Sousuke, too!_ In the midst of panic and terror he was in, Makoto's mind was reeling with thoughts of Sousuke's well being. He was trembling so bad, he barely could muster his voice to speak as he put a hand to his shaking lips. 

He was brought back to reality, rather harshly, when he heard a crashing sound and a soft thud from upstairs. Their bedroom. Makoto jumped as a start, legs pumped with adrenaline rush as he ran to the living room, getting a baseball bat along the way before hiding behind the couch. He gripped the bat like a lifeline, he bit his lip as if it would stop the whimpers he'd elicit for every sound of footsteps and things crashing and shattering to the ground as it drew closer. It didn't help that an eerie whistle began humming against the deadly silence. 

Makoto's heart was beating achingly against his chest, where he held the bat close. His mind jumbled on thoughts, darker thoughts as they led on one thing to another. He suddenly felt like their own walls were betraying him, felt no longer safe in their home.

His blood ran cold as the sharp part of the knife stuck itself on the cushion of the couch just right beside his ear. Adrenaline sparking his senses, Makoto jumped on his back away from the couch and into the space away from the intruder. He didn't mean to, but he just had to look up because he lights had flickered as power erupted from the increasing storm outside. The only light possible was through the repeating lightning strikes, and Makoto just had to look up and see- 

And see a man wearing a blood-stained suit, crimson-dripped bandages covered his flesh, and redshot eyes staring down at him with a twisted expression that made Makoto scream. 

He never thought he could see, hear, _smell_ , and feel death right in front of his eyes. The room went darker than it should be, and the air was disgusting. It watered his eyes on the pure stench and fear, it took all of his strength to scramble and run towards the door. The knife was back on the intruder's hand before it embedded itself to the wall right beside Makoto a moment after he escaped to the kitchen.

Makoto saw black hit his vision as he fell head first with a sudden, heavy weight on his back where he assumed that the taller must have mercilessly pounced at him. The bat laid forgotten across him, his head was also pulled back harshly by the hair, baring his neck to the rusty and ragged knife from the bloody man. The green-eyed man forced his eyes shut, not wanting to meet the hellish nightmare that was the redshot orbs the other possessed. It felt like his scalp was being ripped from his skull, but it didn't terrified Makoto much more than the digging blade at his neck. It didn't help that a voice that sounded like the devil himself whispered on his ear, 

"I like your voice~ I bet it would be nicer of you raised it higher!" he yanked the shorter man's hair even more forcefully, eliciting a loud and pained gasp from the brunette. The hair on the back of Makoto's neck stood as the man inhaled his scent and hummed, his hands leaving nail scratches beneath Makoto's shirt that left him feeling extremely violated. 

_Get the gun. Get the gun. Sousuke used to hide a gun in the drawer_. 

Makoto suddenly remembered, although he always felt strange holding a gun. Sousuke told him he was just a softie like that. He wouldn't object to that, but now if he didn't think of anything, he'd be good as d.. 

_Dead_. 

He tried reaching for the baseball bat, but stronger ones caught it and held it with an intention to beak its bones. Makoto yelped, elbowing the other man despite the searing pain in his wrist, on his arched back and on his neck. The man grunted in return, staggered back and gave the momentum for the younger man to turn on his back and wrestle the knife out of the killer's hands. He punched, and squirmed his way out of rough and bloody hands before he could stand. He kicked, and he made sure it made its way square in the jaw. 

But the man wouldn't budge, those red eyes only seemed to be amused as he yanked Makoto's feet down, and they both struggled for the rusty-bladed knife. The other man had more built, had more muscles, and definitely had more experience with his victims. Makoto was losing the fight, the knife was pointed dangerously near to his left eye. "I like your eyes, too~" before he stabbed. 

Makoto could only bring his last drawn strength to stop it midway. He let out a strangled cry, his eyes brimmed with tears as another bandaged hand snaked its way to his neck and gripped it hard. It burned his lungs, his throat, too. But there was nothing more painful than realizing that Sousuke might come home later and find him bathing in his own blood. That he could not anymore say how much he's sorry, he never wanted them to fight. He never wanted Sousuke to leave. 

_Sousuke_... He tried to focus on thinking of that name, and not how the mad killer was cackling insanely saying how he was turned on by the helplessness of his prey. He tried to focus on imagining Sousuke's gentle teal eyes, seeing his smile, hearing his rare laugh, and feeling his warmth instead of seeing death in bloodshot eyes, maniacal and toothy laugh, and feeling the cold and numbness dawning on his system. 

Makoto wasn't sure how his death would feel like, but now it sure felt like drowning: muffled silence, fading senses, embracing cold, and losing air. It's almost the same feeling when they fought. Almost the same feeling when Sousuke left. Almost... 

"S-Sousuke..." A sharp noise that sounded like a door banging with such an intensity was enough to startle Makoto back to his senses, and the killer to abruptly stop with his sickening laugh.

"Makoto!" He heard Sousuke's voice. That itself gave him a lot of stirrings in his nerves that he tackled the criminal with a force enough to leave him grunting and dizzy against the edge of the kitchen drawers. 

The room was heavily dark, the black man was already clawing with its long and ragged fingernails on wood, ready to pounce back. Makoto's breathing was shallow, frantic to hear and see the man with teal orbs whose voice had saved him from earlier _but it's dark, I can't see anything.. Sou-_

Something had tugged him and enveloped in an, if that was possible, darker blackness. It was even scary, Makoto first thought because in this darkness he couldn't see anything but an empty void of nothingness. But this was warm, soothing, that the arms that he felt on his back was holding him firm and steady. This warmth was that of someone he knew he was desperate to see since the door slammed shut. 

Gunshots rang through the walls of their shared home, but Makoto could see nothing, hear nothing but Sousuke's whispering nothings to his ear and really.. That's all he needed to hear. 

Knees buckled as they slumped to the ground, he noticed the silence permeating through the room again. Rainfall pattering in the background, Makoto listened to the sound of heartbeat near his ear. It was beating erratically, just as his probably was. When their embrace parted, Makoto's heart skipped a beat. Before he could mouth anything though, Sousuke's hands were trembling as they search for any signs of the other being hurt. He held the taller man's arms, one hand cupping his cheek. 

"I'm fine, Sousuke." Sousuke's eyes softened for a bit, and suddenly everything about the dead corpse on their kitchen floor was forgotten.

"I'm sorry.. I'm sorry I should have been more sensitive.. I'm so sorry I pushed you-- I.. Hurt you and I didn't mean to.." it was Makoto's voice that broke out the apology first. Sousuke's heart sank; this wasn't supposed to happen, he wasn't supposed to just walk out the door like a coward, he wasn't supposed to leave Makoto thinking that it was his fault for he had hit the last person he'd wanted to hurt, because it wasn't his fault. At all.

It was his own fault for snapping at the first place, for not listening, for letting his frustration get the better of him. And letting Makoto almost be killed by that bloody bastard-and-pain-in-the-ass criminal. _Shit. That could've been the worst_. 

Unknowingly, his grip had tightened on Makoto's sore wrist cupping his cheek. The brunet flinched slightly, causing Sousuke's voice to falter even more. 

"N-no. It isn't your fault. I'm the one apologizing. I'm really sorry.. really sorry, I never should've stormed out and left. I should've let us talk things out and I-- I never should've let you think I hate you, or think it was your fault. No, I- I should be thankful you slapped me out of it. I'm really sorry, Mako.." Sousuke's eyes were downcast but tried to look into those verdant orbs, guilt and shame evident in his azure irises. It sounded like he was biting back a choking sound, feeling the lump on his throat straining. 

Makoto's eyes widened for a moment, before he spoke, a little too shy with blush creeping his cheeks, ".. You shouldn't be thankful for that, you know.." he fidgeted, still looking guilty. Sousuke thought that look reminded him of a kicked puppy. It was endearing and frustratingly adorable at the same time. 

"But I am.. And I'm really s--" Sousuke didn't have enough time to respond when the shorter man bumped their foreheads together, an act of intimacy they usually did when they when the other was about to say something really serious and he meant it. 

"You don't need to say sorry for anything. I understand, Sou. I just wished I could've chosen the right words to say.. I know we never wanted to fight each other, but I know it's impossible to avoid it..." Makoto started, Sousuke understood him too well to know the words before it's spoken. 

".. But we'll try right? We'll talk, and I won't walk out again. We'll talk it out until we've calmed each other down, and we won't stop the conversation without resolving anything." Sousuke continued. 

Makoto smiled softly, ".. Yes, we'll keep our word on that." 

It's such a small thing to do, promising for an misunderstanding that's not even as trivial as most of the couples would consider. it's not even a bad argument, now they think about it. It was just a matter of spurred frustrations clashing against one another. It wasn't about jealousy, or insecurities, or about money.. It was just a simple misunderstanding that bloomed that neither of them prepared for its coming. 

They kissed after that, slow and gentle. It didn't last long however, Sousuke had to call the police first and deal with everything reality demanded.

But at least, the air was back in their lungs, and they didn't feel like drowning anymore. It was when they realized that they were each other's air, breathing both of them back to life. 

"I love you." 

**Author's Note:**

> I dont know how I'm going to make them cute couple fight. I mean, sre Sousuke is a bit grumpy, but let's face it. No one can stay mad at Mako. He's an angel. And Mako, he could never be angry or stay angry for a long time. Especially to his Sou.
> 
> Or so what my headcanon says.


End file.
